Ritual in Motion
The gym is filled with shouts and run,
A liturgy of sweat and fun.
Each form repeats the sacred play
Of body waking into day.
Discipline becomes a rite—
A prayer enacted through delight.
She flushes clean the past behind,
A ritual of another kind.
No priest required, no psalm intoned—
Just joy in what the act has shown.
To rid oneself of what once clung
Is to be blessed by what is flung.
